


Bro

by catsaremyboyfriend



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics), Under the Red Hood
Genre: F/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-07
Updated: 2015-01-08
Packaged: 2018-02-16 13:41:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2271864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catsaremyboyfriend/pseuds/catsaremyboyfriend
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>someone asked for more, so here's more</p>
        </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Okay, so, she shouldn’t be here. It’s her fault for leaving the group after dark, but she's _hungry_ and Spike hasn’t come back from scavenging but that’s a whole other story. Cause right now she's got her back to a brick wall in an extremely suspicious alley. She should not go down extremely suspicious alleys. She should know this by now. “So, fellas….”

“Shut up, bitch,” the guy with the knife growls, and she swallows.

“Um, I’ve got powers! I can, I can boil your brains inside your skull!” She doesn't have any powers. She's a teenager from the Narrows, harmless and homeless. She's willing to say anything to make these men go away, because what they’re looking for, she's not willing to give.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” They move closer and okay, she can get through this, she'll just send her head off somewhere else, it’ll be okay. “Gonna kill her after.” Less okay.

“Please no, come on!”

Shit, she'll never meet her soulmate now, her mark will fade off their skin and they’ll be left wondering what happened to her. Her mark faded a few years ago, and she panicked, but it came back. Different words, same scratchy handwriting. She figured meeting them was gonna be interesting, but she guesses that’s not happening.  
There’s a shot and one of the dude’s heads explode. Okay. She can roll with that. She curls into a ball, smelling blood as three other bodies drop in front of her. Okay. This is a change. A good change, she hopes. She risks looking up. Okay.  
It’s Red Hood. He controls most of the drug trade in Gotham, but hey, he just killed a bunch of dudes who were gonna rape her, so she smiles. Damn, he’s a big motherfucker.

“Bro, that was the greatest motherfucking rescue I’ve ever seen.” It’s the only rescue she's ever seen. No one’s bothered to save her before. He stiffens, stepping back with a hand to his gun. That’s not good. 

“What the fuck did you just say?”

Holy shit. “I…oh my God. It’s you!” She stands up, put her hands on her hips. She did not plan on meeting her soulmate unshowered and filthy, but whatever. He’s pretty gross, too.

“Yeah, I guess it is me.” 

“Are you gonna run away? Cause that would be really uncool.” He shakes his head and lets go of the gun, thank _God_.

“What’s your name?” 

“Laney. Lane. Kaddoura. Lane Kaddoura.”

“You sure about that?” 

“Yes. I’m just _really_ excited to meet you!” 

“Uh huh.” She frowns and steps over the dead men, which…ick.

“Look, if you’re gonna be all emotionally constipated, that’s not okay. I’m open about pretty much everything. Also, you _died_ for a while, what’s up with that? I cried myself to sleep every night for months, and then you were back, but your words were _so_ much more rude.”

“What’d they say before?” he asks, curious.

“They said, ‘Hi, I’m Jason. Are you lost?” She pokes a finger into his chest. “So, _Jason_ , what are we gonna do?” 

“Let me see your mark.” 

She smiles, pleased, cause his voice is possessive. “Yeah, sure, okay.” She tugs her sleeve up, revealing his words along her left forearm. “Alright, your turn.” 

“Look, I have to take off my helmet to show you. This is a big deal, okay? You can’t go telling people my name, or what I look like. Ever.”

“You’re implying that I can’t be trusted, and that’s hurtful.” He just shrugs and tugs the helmet off. Okay. Okay. She lucked out. Her soulmate is a hottie. A scarred, damaged hottie with a thousand yard stare, but a hottie nonetheless. Her luck is finally looking up. She wolf whistles and he smirks, then turns around to show her neat handwriting along the back of his neck. “Yep, that’s mine. Is this the part where you drag me back to your lair and we have glorious sex for hours?”

She hooks her arm in his and hopes her smile isn’t too greedy. “No. This is the part where we go back to my place and discuss the terms of our relationship.”

“Totally not fun.”

“ _Then_ we have glorious sex for hours.” 

“I rescind my previous statement.”


	2. Red Hood

Hood doesn’t really do the hero thing anymore. That died when he did. He gets criminals in his own way, through fear, power, and death. More effective than anything the Bat ever did. But Hood is still, sort of technically, good, so he’s not gonna sit by and watch while four guys rape some girl. They deserve the bullets that take them down like animals. 

The girl is smart, curls up in a ball. She’s dark skinned, her black hair long and tangled. He sees that she’s not bad looking, nose maybe a bit too big, lips too thin, but pretty. Her bones are prominent, delicate wrists crossed over her knees. 

The clothes she’s wearing are too big on her, badly patched in places. Homeless, then. He remembers being homeless. He hated it. Her smile is big and brash, though, eyes lighting up. They’re hazel. He’s always liked hazel eyes.

“Bro, that was the greatest motherfucking rescue I’ve ever seen.” 

He freezes. Those words. Those are _his_ words. When he comes back he figured they’d be gone, that he’d be unmarked, but the first mirror he looked in showed that they were still there. Different words, same handwriting. His hand automatically goes to his gun and her smile fades. _Shit_. He’s gonna mess this up, just like he’s messed up every other thing that he’s done. 

“What the fuck did you just say?” he says without thinking, and her eyes widen. They really are pretty. 

“I…oh my God. It’s you!” 

She stands with her hands on her hips. She’s a little taller than average, and she’s reached the kind of skinny that models are jealous of. He’ll feed her until she’s healthy, he’s finally found his soulmate and his mind is reeling.

“Yeah, I guess it is me.” 

“Are you gonna run away? Cause that would be really uncool.” She’s all bravado and confidence, but he can see the fine tremors in her hands. She keeps biting her lip. Of course he’s not gonna leave her. He’s gonna bring her home and find out what she tastes like. He’s gonna _not_ fuck this up. 

“What’s your name?”

“Laney. Lane. Kaddoura. Lane Kaddoura.” She stumbles over her name, and he’s smiling now. 

“You sure about that?”

She’s getting her bravery back, looks him straight in the face. “Yes. I’m just _really_ excited to meet you!” He can’t believe this. He expected a soulmate who would freak out as soon as they realized who he is, what they’re getting into. But she’s grinning at them while dead men cool at their feet. 

“Uh huh.” She frowns. Shit. He’s such an idiot. Then she’s giving him a long speech about his emotional availability and his death, but he keeps focusing on her crying herself to sleep. Goddamn, every day he hates Joker a little more for what his life has become. And her words have changed. His have, too.  
They used to say, “Dude, I am beyond lost. I have perfected the science of lost. Lost is my best friend.” He gets the feeling that he’s going to laugh a lot more now that he’s met her.

“What’d they say before?” he asks, instead of saying how sorry he is, how fucking sorry. 

“They said, ‘Hi, I’m Jason. Are you lost?” God, he used to be so polite. She pokes a finger into his chest. Her nails are sharp. “So, _Jason_ , what are we gonna do?”   
They’re gonna go home and he’s starting self-defense lessons, that’s what they’re gonna do. Then he’s gonna fuck her. He wants to see her mark, though. She gives him a happy little smile when he asks, rolls up her sleeve to show his words, then makes a weird up and down gesture. “Alright, your turn.” 

He’s not comfortable showing his face, his scars, to anyone. He’s not handsome, not anymore, and his identity is pretty closely guarded, but this is his _soulmate_. 

“Look, I have to take off my helmet to show you. This is a big deal, okay? You can’t go telling people my name, or what I look like. Ever.” 

She crosses her arms over her chest. “You’re implying that I can’t be trusted, and that’s hurtful.” He risks a glance at her, nervous, but she doesn’t see too angry. They’ll work on the trust thing later. He takes the helmet off and waits for her reaction. Her cheeks flush, and he’s seen that heavy look in other people’s eyes. She wants him.  
He can’t hide his smile when she wolf whistles, cause he expected his soulmate to be fun, but he figured that once she met him, she’d get nervous. He turns his back to her, which is harder than it should be, he hates being vulnerable, and the cool air makes his skin prickle. “Yep, that’s mine. Is this the part where you drag me back to your lair and we have glorious sex for hours?” 

Jesus _fuck_. He’s gonna take her apart. He’s gonna have her screaming. She hooks her arm through his and grins. She’s light enough that he could carry her with one arm. He has to be the serious one here. Kind of.

“No. This is the part where we go back to my place and discuss the terms of our relationship.”

The terms being that he is hers, he finally has someone who is unarguably _his_ , and he will hold onto that as tightly as he’s held onto his anger. “Totally not fun,” she grumbles, bumping a hip into his, and he laughs. 

“ _Then_ we have glorious sex for hours.” Her muscles tighten and she walks a little faster, glancing up like she’s hoping he won’t notice. 

“I rescind my previous statement.”


	3. Frankenstein

She falls asleep as soon as they get to the safehouse, for all her bravado. Just lies on the carpet and curls up. She’s probably trained herself to sleep anywhere.  
He sits, puts his legs over the curve of her waist and cleans his guns. People like him have to take good care of what they have. He only has guns, and now, Lane. He counts the individual bumps of her ribs through her shirt and waits. 

 

Something smells good. Food. Real food, not the Burger King shit she’s been scavenging for the past year. Okay. Awesome. 

“Jason?” She sits up as he pushes a plate towards her. “Oh, hey, are those pancakes? I fuckin’ _love_ pancakes.”  
He nods and she sighs, climbing into his lap, hooks her hands at the back of his neck to slip fingers under his collar. “Yo. Talk to me. I don’t hold with that ‘strong and silent’ shit. Okay? No one can be cool over breakfast foods.”

“Why aren’t you with your parents? Is there something wrong with you?” 

She leans back, keeping her hands linked. “ _Jesus_. Way to go for the hard-hitting questions, Lois Lane.” He settles his hands at her waist, worried, and she grins. “One’s dead, the other left.”

“I’m sorry.” 

“I got over it.” She doesn’t want to stop touching him, reaches a hand behind herself for a pancake and swallows it down. Who cares if she looks like an animal, she hasn’t eaten in days and he’s her soulmate, it’s not like he’ll leave her. 

“You can have all the food you want,” he says under his breath, pushes his nose into the hollow below the ear. 

“Well of course I fuckin’ can,” she says, even if her heart flips over because _food_. There hasn’t been enough food in years. She knows what she is. Skeletal. He looks concerned. “I’m not gonna start crying into your shoulder cause I was hungry, Jason.” 

He sits back, lips tightening. “I don’t expect you to cry. You’re my soulmate. Neither of us are weak.” She smiles and kisses him, quick presses of their lips. He tastes like cherry chapstick.

She slips him some tongue, bites his lower lip, and pulls back laughing. “Yeah. We’re tough.” 

 

He tells Nightwing casually, when they cross paths on patrol. Dick is his big brother, nothing can change that. Not even death. 

“Found my soulmate,” he yells, running towards the ledge Dick’s standing on and leaping off before he can respond.

“Hey! Congrats!” Dick calls after him, easygoing as always. He’ll tell Bruce, who’ll tell Alfred. It’ll make the old man’s day. He gives a jaunty wave over his shoulder to Dick and turns the corner. 

 

When he gets back she’s wearing a pair of his boxers and his shirt, resting on the grimiest armchair he owns. She’s turned it towards the window, and she’s sitting there, knees held to her chest. Her hair is wet.

“Enjoy the shower?” he asks, coming close to run his fingers through the strands. 

“I forgot what color my skin was,” she jokes, running a finger down her forearm.

“Did you use the good soap?” She wrinkles her nose. 

“There’s bad soap?”

He shrugs and sits on the window sill, blocking her view. “You have anyone else that needs taking in? Siblings? Best friend?”

“Nah. I’m a lone wolf. Totally _solo_.” She waves a hand. “And I’m not a charity case. Now that I’m a little safer, I’ll get a job. I can take care of myself, mostly.”

“Okay.” 

“I ran with some kids for a while. Spike. Sonya. K Lee. They were alright.” She shrugs like she doesn’t care. He makes a mental note to find all of them, do what he can.  
Lane grins again, reaches out to tangle their fingers together. “How was patrol? Was it as cool as I imagine?” 

“I tripped and broke a window with my elbow,” he admits. “But I also killed the East River’s newest dealer.” He’d pleaded for mercy. Red Hood had none.

Lane punches him lightly in the shoulder, crowing, “Hey! Good job. It was Big Moe, right? He was a dick.” She stands, pulls him off the windowsill and onto the chair, then settles sideways on his lap.  
He braces her back with his left arm and gets used to the sharp bits of her. “What else?”

“Catwoman was hanging around.” 

“Did she flirt with you?” 

“Always.” 

Lane tips her head back and speaks to the ceiling. “Was it nearly _impossible_ to resist? I hear she’s more beautiful than Poison Ivy.” He presses a kiss to the side of her throat and she giggles. “Don’t give me that lame ‘you’re the only girl I see’ shit, either.” 

“It’s true,” he says into her skin. Green eyes have never been his thing.

“Sure, sure, Mr. Romantic.” She laughs and lifts her head to kiss him properly on the mouth. 

 

He falls asleep after dinner, which is bread and fruit and protein supplements, because he’s not obvious about trying to fatten her up at _all_.

"Bats are nocturnal,” he says when she asks why he sleeps during the day. That doesn’t mean anything to her, but he’s smiling. She hasn’t slept in a real bed for months.  
There were shelters, but shelters aren’t permanent. The beds weren’t comfortable. He sleeps on his back, one arm behind his head. There are guns everywhere, under his pillow, taped to the headboard, in the bedside table drawer.  
She sits up next to him and watches TV. He curls his fingers around her wrist as his breathing settles. They’ll do ‘terms of relationship’ later. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> someone asked for more, so here's more


	4. Tomb Raider

She wakes up and Jason’s standing at the edge of their bed, tense, hands balled into fists, snapping something angry at the Batman. Which…how does Red Hood know Batman this well? They operate on totally different sides of the hero spectrum. 

“Jason?” she mumbles, and they both turn to her. “Wha’s he doing here?” Batman waves a dismissive hand at her, which _hell no_. She gets up, puts herself between them. “I asked a goddamn question.” 

Jason huffs out a laugh. “This is my old boss, Lane.”

“Your _father_ ,” Batman growls, stepping close enough that his cape brushes her ankles.

“Piss poor excuse for a father,” Jason says, bratty. Now he’s closer too, at her back. 

“Wait, you’re the one who let my soulmate die?” She pushes at his chest, which does…nothing. Okay. “I spent _years_ in mourning, dickhead.” She thinks of the scars on Jason’s face and pushes again. It makes her feel good, so whatever. “He’s the best thing that ever happened to the Narrows!” 

“He’s a murderer,” Batman says harshly and her heart’s in her throat, but she’s got things to say.

“You broke my friend’s arm just for being seen near Two-Face. You’re no better.” 

Batman rubs a hand across his jaw. He looks tired. “Enough. I didn’t come here to fight.” 

“That’s a first,” Jason grumbles, and Batman’s lips flatten. 

“Alfred told me your soulmate wasn’t one of us. I got her this.” He tosses a jacket at Lane, the leather buttery and smooth under her fingertips. It’s heavy. “Canary made it. Body armor. She says it can take shotgun blasts. Zatanna also did something to it. It’ll protect her from basic magic.”  
Lane slips it on, leans back against Jason’s chest. He curls his fingers around her hip and squeezes. The tension drops. She thanks Batman, and he nods. “I’ll always be your father, Jason. One way or another.” 

“Whatever, old man,” Jason says, but he’s smirking. Batman nods at them both and leaves.

She buttons up the jacket and grins at Jason, hoping to take the pout off his face. “Alright. Shoot me.” 

“No.” 

“Come on! We have to test it out.” 

“No.” He shakes his head, undoes the jacket and slips it from her shoulders. Now he’s frowning more. Damn. 

“It’ll be really useful, huh?” 

“It better be.”

She wraps her arms around his waist and squeezes. “Cheer up. This is the most badass gift anyone’s ever given me, and Spike gave me a samurai sword once.” He’d found it in an alley, beat up and bent. She’d treasured it anyway. 

“What happened to it?”

“Some guy stole it. It’s whatever.” He’d left her with a black eye, but losing the sword hurt more. She’d felt really safe with that sword. “Can we go back to sleep?” She pulls him back, sprawls out on the bed below his solid weight. 

He kisses her jaw, finally distracted. “Mm. Sure.” She smiles at the ceiling and smoothes down the white streak in his hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> was asked for more so here's more, i added some stuff you guys said in the comments :) also have you guys ever watched the tomb raider movies because they are so so bad and when i say bad i mean badddd cause i have seen some really bad movies so i know these things


End file.
